Remembering Emotions
by Flawless Beauti
Summary: ::Dark!Harry, AU, Slash, HPDM:: Harry remembers what it's like to feel.


He remembers when he was young and got his letter, the feeling of pure joy coursing through him. That day he floated along, high on all of his childhood fantasies come to life. The first time he held his wand he swore he could fly.

He remembers pointing his wand and saying the curse without even caring what it did. He remembers watching him fall, the bathroom tile slowly turning red with the pooling blood. He remembers the choking feeling as pure fear grabbed him by the throat and he could do nothing but shake and wonder why he was feeling it for this person above all others.

He remembers the awkward moments when he would look away just in time to avoid being caught staring, frustrated for not understanding why he was staring in the first place.

He remembers his jumble of mixed emotion as the sight of a pale hand stretched out once again before him. _Thought snakes weren't courageous? _He can remember saying as he grasps it in his, ignoring the scoff because his mouth is twitching and it's the most beautiful sight he has ever seen.

* * *

He remembers the twist in his stomach and the way his heart clenched at the sight of her running her fingers down his chest. The fact that he was frowning and pulling away meant nothing. He had stormed over and pressed their lips together before he quite knew what he was doing.

He remembers how his heart sped up and his eyes widened when those lips parted in a sigh and their owner melted against him.

He remembers the look on a pale face, stunned and hesitant, as he traced a long finger down his chest and stared at him as if to say _is this ok?_ That look never quite went away, and he remembers the warm flutter deep in his belly that made him think _maybe…_.

He remembers the look on the faces of those he thought were his friends when he told them. He remembers the fights and the accusations and the curled lips. He remembers many nights of tears and anger and late night visits to the Infirmary for broken knuckles.

He remembers pale blond hair sweeping easily over his hand and gentle lips pressed against it. He remembers light grey eyes and the emotion that shone from them and the realization that he was not mourning alone.

* * *

He can remember the pulse under his fingers quickening as he licked a slow path down the quivering stomach beneath him. He can remember slender fingers in his hair and soft noises released in puffs of breath against his ear and how he couldn't help but echo them right back as they fought to keep a rhythm.

He remembers watching his son lean his forehead against the window, yanking his head back in surprise before touching it once more. He remembers how his face shone as he ran his hand around the glass in wonder. He turned back to look at him with wide eyes, and he remembers being able to smile back.

He can still recall when he heard the news, white hot anger tinging his vision with the darkest of red while he screamed until his voice turned hoarse. He remember the barely concealed smirks at his failure, and the outright scowls when he succeeded in having his family returned to him. He can picture the dark shadows writhing in their eyes. He remembers his obliviousness.

* * *

He remembers holding them to his chest, eyes burning as he watches them both gasp weakly. He remembers the blood, hot and pulsing, pouring from the gaping wounds and over his robes. He remembers blond hair stained red and dry lips kissing his own even as they spew apologies for not being strong enough.

He remembers his son clutching at him, screaming in pain and dying slowly but so surely. He remembers the crack his neck made as it snapped effortlessly beneath his trained hands, and the snap of his emotions and his sanity at the exact same time.

* * *

He remembers all of this in less than a minute, twirling a wine glass slowly beneath his fingers and eyeing the quivering people kneeling before him_. There is no punishment too great for them_, he thinks, and he can almost taste the bitterness.

One glances up, locks blue eyes with him, and he sees no regret. He lets his head loll back and the hatred burn bright. The sound of the shattering glass is lost in the first screams.


End file.
